


Outbreak

by fayrenz



Category: SHINee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mafia AU, Mentions of Violence, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 14:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12655746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayrenz/pseuds/fayrenz
Summary: Choi Minho, a street gang leader, gets muddled up with a dangerous mafia after being forced to become said mafia prince's getaway ride.





	Outbreak

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt given by nutzroxx from tumblr: can u write a story in which Taemin and Minho are two mafia leaders who hate each other then they had to run away from the police and somehow fall in love :)

He looked at himself in the mirror, running his hand just another time through his smoky blue locks. The symbol of his gang was etched onto his bicep, a dragon in flight. On his back were tattooed dragon wings. His eyes were an uncommon grey and his countenance listless. He grabbed his yellow silk shirt from the closet and put it on, buttoning it up before grabbing onto his blazer. He stepped out of the closet, fixing the creases in his outfit before he stood in front of the bookshelf. He pressed a few binds in and the bookshelf shifted, opening a door into what looked like an office.

 

A man was waiting for him, hands folded, leaning against the door. He smiled, impressed when he saw the other walk out, his departing steps concealing the door he had walked out through. “Not bad, Taemin.”

 

Taemin just smiled, taking the fancy chair and swiveling in it, “Spread the word then, Kibum.” He said, resting back and looking up at the chandelier, “The Dragon Prince is in business.”

 

* * *

 

 

He dodged the fist that came at him, smirking at the man who glared at him, recovering from his miss.

 

“Bastard!” The man tried again but he caught his fist before grabbing his collar, dragging him close and forcing him to his knees.

 

“I repeat myself. Leave that family alone.”

 

“Stop being a shithead, Choi Minho,” The man growled, fighting against Minho’s force, struggling to get back on his feet, “They really do owe-”

 

Minho placed his other hand on the man’s shoulder, pressing him down further, bending to meet his eye, “And they are doing their best to pay.” He kicked him in the stomach before dusting his hands, looking down at him gravely, “Knocking at their door every other day only delays their payment, you know?” He kicked the man again, “Don’t you dare...enter a home when there are no adults….” He bent down and raised the man with his collar, seething as he said, “...and threaten children with a knife-”

 

“That’s enough.” A voice came from the shadows and when its owner stepped out from the shade, dropping his hood and showing his badge, men scrambled away from both sides and even the man Minho had hold of was struggling to flee.

 

Minho sighed, letting go of that man’s collar reluctantly and he ran, looking back in fear every other second until he was out of the alley.

 

“What’s a cop doing in the alleys?” Minho asked, frowning.

 

The light finally fell on the guy’s charming face, his small, dark eyes turning into crescents as he smiled, “Is that how you treat me for not dragging your ass into prison?”

 

“Even if you do jail me, there are many who will bail me, Jinki.” Minho folded his arms smugly, “My gang is not like the other trash that manifests this town. I protect my neighborhood and they protect me.”

 

“Let’s see who protects who now.” Jinki tilted his head, his smile still intact and Minho raised his brow, “What do you mean?”

 

“The Dragon Prince has made our town his lair.”

 

* * *

 

 

Minho saw it. The dragon mark painted on every wall of the town. It was an open threat to all...that the Dragon Prince was going to conquer and destroy everything and anything that comes in his way. But Minho still tried. His gang couldn’t stop his extortions...nor could they win in a fight. He was the son of the Dragon, a strong, heartless mafia family, with connections deep into the Government. He understood fully now...why Jinki had come to him.

 

Bloodied and bruised, he walked to the newest graffiti the dragons had left, additionally bearing an address, date and time.

 

Minho wiped the blood trickling from a cut on his forehead and silenced his gang’s heated discussion, “Shut the fuck up,” He breathed and everyone retreated, the air still heavy, “The Prince wants to only meet,” He smirked, “Let’s give His Fucking Majesty what he wants.”

 

More than half of his men walked away when they heard his maniacal decision but Minho just laughed, dusting his moto jacket off the mud their recent fight had collected.

 

* * *

 

 

Minho knew who it was the moment he entered the club. Men guarding a lounge that was isolated, quieter, and dimmer from the rest of the club was the biggest giveaway. He walked towards that lounge only to be blocked entry.

 

“Unarmed,” One of his men said, holding Minho by the shoulder and halting his entry again.

 

Minho rolled his eyes and untied his baseball bat, emptied the knives from his pockets. The other bodyguard frisked him quickly before they parted, giving him the way.

 

Minho entered that guarded circle, his eyes falling on the Dragon Prince. He had smoky blue hair styled messily, a series of gold piercings in his ears, and was clad in a blazer that concealed his shimmering shirt inside. He looked up, his grey eyes disinterested. “You were brave to show up.” He said, looking away and taking a sip from his beer.

 

Minho flopped down opposite him, resting back, “No, I just fucking hate you.” He shrugged, “The town’s a mess, cowering in fear. Even the police don't wanna patrol the streets. You beat up my men even for passing by...I have merely eight men left...I don’t even know if I should fucking call that a gang.”

 

“So...is Little Choi Minho here to complain?” The Dragon Prince smirked, sliding a beer to him from his side.

 

Minho caught it, “I came here to fucking destroy you, bitch.” He opened the can and took a long swig, eyeing the Dragon’s exposed neck and chest, his eyes meeting his finally interested ones. 

 

“With eight men?” The Dragon Prince asked, tilting his head and smiling in amusement.

 

“Single-handedly,” Minho smiled back, his hands reaching for his belt but he felt a crushing weight against his stomach and hand, for he was pinned between the table and his seat. He looked ahead and saw that the Prince had kicked the table ahead and was keeping him restrained between the seat and the table with his leg. When their eyes had met, he smirked, pushing the table deeper against his waist, making Minho’s face distort in pain.

 

Gunshots resounded in the club; panicked voices and steps overpowered the music.

 

“It’s the police,” One of the bodyguards said and the Prince finally removed his foot’s pressure from the table, letting Minho breathe.

 

“Hmm, Choi,” The Prince got up, “Care to continue this elsewhere?”

 

Minho pulled himself to his feet, smiling sinisterly despite being in pain, “With pleasure.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Where the fuck are your bodyguards?” Minho growled, speeding up as he merged onto the highway, “And...what the fuck is this?!” He tried to push the Prince’s feet off his lap, but the Prince only dug his heels deeper into his crotch, snuggling closer to the door he had been leaning against, aiming the pistol he had been fidgeting with, at Minho.

 

“They are misleading the cops,” He answered, “And think of yourself as anything you want. A getaway ride, my new recruit, slave, hostage…” He lowered the gun, smirking, “All of the above.” He looked ahead, resting his chin on his arm that was propped on the window, “Point is, I can easily kill you and all you have to do is give me a reason not to...like-”

 

“Being your fucking driver-”

 

“Correct!” The Dragon Prince raised his brows, amused, “As a reward, I’ll let your manhood live.” And he lifted his feet off Minho’s lap, kicking Minho’s hands off the steering wheel, making the car stray away from the lane dangerously. Minho caught the steering wheel and let out a string of curses, correcting their path, glaring at the fancy mobster who was laughing, his feet now propped on the dashboard instead.

 

“Crazy bastard,” He breathed, showing his finger to the cars that passed him by, honking.

 

* * *

 

 

Two days had passed. Minho had been driving all day and crashing the moment they checked into the motel, not even bothering to wake up for the box of food the mobster left on his sleeping stomach. He woke up a couple of hours later, hogged down the cold food and switched the TV on- to let the random drama playing lull him back to sleep. He had not realized that he could escape the first day...but on their second stop, he had his sleep, had his fill and he switched on the TV like usual before glancing to the still mobster, sleeping shirtless and face down, his legs wrapped in the comforter that had ridden down, exposing the dragon wings tattooed on his back.

 

Minho noticed the gun still in his grip, though loose. He knew if he woke amidst his escape he would pull the trigger so he decided to slither his way out instead of walking out he would have- like he didn’t give a fuck. He got up quietly and took soft steps towards the door. Clicking it open, he quickly shuffled out and closed the door. Even if that sound had woken that bastard up, the door was between him and his bullets.

 

He did not waste a second and was out, descending the stairs and was in the parking lot. He took his phone out and found the way to the nearest gas station. He could hitch a ride there...or at least force his way into one if he was running on bad luck.

 

A few minutes later, he got into the store near the gas station, panting. There weren’t any cars yet so he bought a beer and sat on the bench, waiting for a target to hitch a ride from. He turned to the TV and began watching the news...and the moment his and the Dragon Prince’s picture flashed on the screen he regretted not changing the channel in the motel. If he had known his face was plastered on every TV screen, perhaps even heard it on the radio (which that bastard Prince didn’t let him put on), he would have never acted so hastily. He wouldn’t have wasted money on beer and had instead bought a disguise or something.

 

The cashier seemed to have been glancing at him too often from the window...or perhaps that was his hallucination after now realizing he was a publicly wanted man...but he got up anyway and walked past the jeeps that had stopped for fuel right then, the whole plan of hitching a ride slipping from his mind.

 

As he walked out the gas station, a jeep drove past him and blocked his path. Another jeep stopped behind him and people started to climb out. Judging from the way they dressed...they were a street a gang as well...or just a bunch of teenagers who were dressed as wannabe gangsters.

 

“Hyuk, that bastard...he’s the Hood, right?”

 

A man walked from the behind, grabbing the hood that had been hanging out of Minho’s moto jacket. Minho grabbed his neck the moment he yanked at his hood, smirking as the guy started to gasp. He let go a few seconds later, straightening his jacket. He looked around, glaring at the group, “So what if I am, bitches? Wanna report me?” He raised his brow, “I bet no one has the balls-”

 

A man came at him from behind, flinging a rod and Minho dodged it barely, glancing at the man who was snickering, “You are a wanted bastard by the police but the one who will pay up for your arrogant head are the Dragons. Rumor has it that you abducted their Prince...or at least know his whereabouts. They are paying millions for reporting to them instead of the police.” He played with his rod, “Wanna test this? I wonder how long I’ll need to use it until you barf his location?”

 

“Fucker,” Minho cursed, “You wanna fight an unarmed man with a fucking rod, huh?”

 

“Who said this is a fight?” The man gritted his teeth, before he shouted, “Grab the bastard!”

 

Minho dodged the first two that came, punching the other one that he couldn’t. He defended himself and squeezed out of their circle but the guy with the rod blocked his path, grinning at him, “Going somewhere, Robinhood?”

 

Minho cursed, taking a step back, only to be grabbed from all the sides. He struggled but there were too many guys and they had started to beat him for every time he struggled, bringing him to the knees.

 

“Now temme, dipshit…” The man crouched before him, “Where’s the dragon prince?”

 

Minho spat blood onto that guy’s face before he laughed, his laughter strained due to his uneven breathing, “...in hell.”

 

The guy glared at him, before he shouted in anger, lifting the rod.

 

A honk halted the guy who looked to the side, finding a yellow convertible slowly come into their view. The guy had a slightly puffy face yet his charm was evident. He ruffled his blue hair, messing up his bed hair further as he got out of the car and leaned against it.

 

“Your loyalty is admirable.” He shrugged and Minho rolled his eyes, whispering, “Fuck off.”

 

The dragon prince looked to the group who were perplexed at his sight, unsure of what to do. He just smiled, “Run while you still can.”

 

The guy dropped the rod and the others threw Minho on the ground before they got on their jeeps and drove off.

 

The prince just watched Minho get on his feet with an emotionless face before he jumped back into his car, pushing open the passenger seat. Minho staggered ahead and got in. The moment he had slammed the door shut, the guy sped off, clicking his tongue as he took a turn, “I thought you were intelligent because you didn’t escape yesterday. Turns out you are not only stupid...but slow.” He sighed, “As you might have now realized...you need me more than I need you, Choi.”

 

Minho rested his eyes, wiping the blood from his lips, “Shut up, fucker.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Where the fuck are we going anyways?” Minho asked the next day. He had been blindly following the navigation, stopping in towns in between. Everywhere they went...their picture was flashing on the news. Minho swore he even found their pictures in a newspaper some old guy was reading in the lobby of one of the motels they had stopped in.

 

“Somewhere far.” The mobster replied, yawning as he played on his phone, the golden dragon sticker on the black case shining in the sun. A mixtape had been on replay since the day they had driven out that club. The guy kept removing his seat belt every now and then to shift his legs on the dashboard, making the car beep for minutes before he lazily put it back on. It was annoying the hell out of Minho somehow, glancing at the mud stains on the dashboard...and it was not even his car.

 

“How far is somewhere far?”

 

“Far.”

 

“Fuck you.” Minho cursed under his breath. He shouldn’t have gotten back into this bastard’s car. He had met a hell lot of crazy people. He was crazy himself. But this guy was on a different level. He hadn’t even spoken rudely, let alone cursed...yet Minho was annoyed as fuck.

 

“You owe me your life, Choi.” He spoke as if reading his thoughts, making Minho look to him, wide-eyed. “Is that how a person who owes his life to his savior drive? Watch the speed limit. Stay to the left. We are not taking an exit for the next 100 miles anyway.”

 

“You fucking didn’t even care for that before!”

 

“Hmm, right.” He turned to him, frowning, “But thanks to someone a bunch of annoying people have seen this beauty, haven’t they?” He smiled, “Of course, I’m talking about both my face and this car.” His smile faded as he returned to playing on his phone, “Now that they know I am using a car, they will be keeping an eye on the roads more.”

 

“Your car is _fucking_ yellow.”

 

“Pretty color, isn’t it?”

 

Minho sighed in frustration, “It doesn’t matter if I drive fast or not- your car is FUCKING YELLOW, YOU BASTARD!”

 

The guy remained focused on his game but let out a chuckle, “Aw, Choi is worrying.” He paused to swipe furiously, “Don’t worry, let’s spray paint it on our next stop. You like purple?”

 

Minho was sure now...that this guy didn’t care about anything at all. This was nothing but a fucking game to him. He just wanted to drive him insane because he could. And he was enjoying it too much.

 

“Crazy bastard,” Minho whispered, remembering what he had said about him needing him more. He slowed down to 70 and put it on cruise control, trying not be annoyed by the cheerful music of his mobile game.

 

* * *

 

 

“Buy some food.” The guy said, handing a few bucks to Minho the moment they had entered the motel room. They had spray painted the car and now it was black. More like Minho had painted it while the guy just watched him, snacking on some chips he had bought from a vending machine nearby. “And clothes.”

 

“I’m not fucking going to the mall,” Minho said, angered by the way he passed him nonchalantly.

 

“I never asked you to.” He said, yawning, “Be quick. I want my clothes before I step out of the shower.” When he heard Minho grumble, he turned, unbuttoning his shirt, a little smirk playing on his lips, “Not going? Maybe you really want to see me naked. Seems like you really meant it every time you said ‘fuck you’. ”

 

Minho grew flustered. He put on his hood and was out the door, the guy’s chuckling rife in his ears.

 

* * *

 

 

Minho was late. It was his petty way of getting back at that bastard. He entered the room and found the guy wrapped up in the blanket, some blue locks peeking out. “Food and clothes. Wake up, crazy bastard.” He said, dropping the bags on the couch before entering the shower with the clothes he had bought for himself.

 

When he was out he found the guy sitting on the couch, dressed in the pink Barbie sweatshirt and knock off ripped skinny jeans that he had ripped more after buying them from the thrift shop. He had been really tempted to buy something more ridiculous but he had settled for the Barbie sweatshirt, contemplating the consequences. It might be him wearing that shit if this guy flips.

 

He had expected it to be still funny. But somehow it wasn’t. He seemed rather calm, watching TV as he ate, his hair devoid of all that gel and falling upon his forehead as a fringe. He noticed how his hair was overgrown with they way it obstructed his eyes, but he didn’t seem to care. He had removed all his piercing but one. He must have been tired because he was no longer carrying his arrogance. If Minho hadn’t known better...he would have thought this guy was normal. And harmless.

 

“Nice choice, Choi,” He said when he noticed Minho approaching, “I’m honored you think I’m pretty as a doll.” He turned to him and gave him a sweet little smile. Minho almost thought he looked cute-

 

_Bullshit._

 

This guy was a fucking nightmare. Even if right now he seemed like an innocent dream. He understood now why they said the deadliest of flowers smell the sweetest.

 

Minho flopped down beside him, grabbing his share of the food.

 

Somehow they ate in silence. Time passing in the anime that the mobster had put on. Minho didn’t know when he had fallen asleep like that but he woke up to a sudden jerk. He had been sleeping while still being seated but the guy had laid down, his legs on his lap. Minho grumbled when the guy kicked him again.

 

“The fuck?!” But he soon calmed down because the guy was getting up, holding his neck and rubbing his chest, having difficulty in breathing. His face was slightly bloated and there were rashes on his skin. “Bla-Blazer...” He whispered painfully and Minho sprang up, searching for it everywhere. He finally found it in the bathroom and he gave it to him. He began searching the pockets and shakingly removed an EpiPen box. He was struggling to take one out so Minho snatched it away and took it out for him, before grabbing his hand and injecting it right away.

 

The guy calmed a little and dropped back onto the couch, his chest rising and falling. A few minutes later he kicked Minho, getting up, looking slightly better...but furious, “You stabbed me so hard, moron!”

 

“You’re welcome.” Minho rolled his eyes, resting back on his side of the couch.

 

“Yes, thank you very much for bringing me food that had peanuts!” The guy kicked him another time before getting up, gathering his injections. He stormed to the bed and flopped down, pulling the comforter over him.

 

“How am I supposed to know you have a fucking allergy?!”

 

The guy ignored him and Minho gave up as well, stretching out on the couch, trying to fall back asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Minho woke up to the slam of the washroom door. The guy was getting ready to leave and Minho was on his feet as well, grabbing his jacket. The guy threw him a backpack and Minho put their dirty clothes in it. He hadn’t said a word and though his rashes seemed to have lessened, he looked a little pale. Minho worried for just a mere second, letting go of it...because...why the hell should he worry?

 

They walked out of the room and Minho closed the door, stretching a little as he looked around before watching the guy approach the stairs. Something in his walk seemed off and Minho blinked, brows constricted, calling out to him as he began walking as well, “Hey!”

 

The guy did not answer. He turned towards the stairs and Minho saw him sway, his eyes struggling to stay open. He might have wanted to catch onto the railing but his coordination was off. He stepped on the first step, thinking there was more floor ahead and he almost tumbled down….almost...because Minho had caught him by the wrist and pulled him away. He collided with him and Minho stepped back, and on instinct held him, wrapping one arm around his waist, the other holding his neck.

 

The guy’s breathing was strained...and his neck was burning. “Hey,” Minho said softly, “You alright?”

 

When he got no answer, Minho held his shoulders, separating him from his chest to check if he was alright.

 

He was out cold. Minho sighed, letting go of his shoulders and making him fall back in his arms.

 

“What the fuck,” He murmured, thinking for a while before picking him up and carrying him back to the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Minho could have run away. He should have run away. But if there was any truth to what those delinquents had uttered then- that the Dragons were looking for him...then the safest place was next to their leader until this mess was resolved. And it was important for the leader to live if he wanted to live.

 

So he trashed the fruits from the fruit bowl, filled it with water and threw in some ice he quickly had bought from the store nearby. He dipped a hand towel and placed it on the mobster’s forehead and made sure he was warm, so the guy could sweat his fever out. He wasn’t sure if anything of this would work. He just doing what he remembered from his childhood.

 

He had brought some sandwiches and soda too. He was sitting on the other side of the bed, eating slowly, removing, dipping and putting back the towel every now and then.

 

About two hours later, the guy finally stirred. He got up, the towel falling off and tumbling onto the blanket. He gazed at it for a while, seeming still out of it. A few minutes later, perhaps having caught up, he finally asked, “How long was I out?”

 

“Almost three hours.”

 

The guy looked around, his face resolving. “Let’s go.”

 

“You sure?” Minho reached out, placing his palm on his forehead, finding the fever down but not gone, “Don’t start falling again because I ain’t saving you another time.”

 

The guy just stared at Minho for a minute, watching him retract his arm, “You’re driving, remember? I’ll just sleep in the car.”

 

And they were merging onto the highway soon, the guy sitting like usual, his feet resting on the dashboard, but this time he wore sunglasses, probably to cover up his puffy eyes. He was doing something on his phone which Minho could not see.

 

“I appreciate it,” He said slowly, not looking to Minho, “You taking care of me. And it’s not your fault. You didn’t know about my allergy.”

 

Those were the last words he had expected this guy to say. Minho thought he should be feeling victorious that the guy was apologizing in a way...but he just didn’t feel that way. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed more human- more normal- more real now. He still was probably crazy as fuck...but he still had his head in the right place despite it all.

 

“I’m sorry too. About the injection. I never fucking used one and I kinda panicked. You really did seem like you were dying.”

 

The guy chuckled softly, “It’s alright.”

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“Hmm?” He looked at him finally at that question.

 

“Your name? Or should I just continue to call you crazy bastard?”

 

“Call me whatever you want.” He slumped in his seat, turning away slightly from the sun. A few minutes later, his voice came, “Taemin. But don’t call me by it.”

 

Minho smirked, “No promises.”

 

* * *

 

 

They reached the next motel in the evening. They had grabbed food and clothes on the way. After freshening up and eating, Taemin rested back on his side of the couch, closing his eyes, “Leave,” He softly said and Minho looked to him, slightly befuddled, thinking he hadn’t heard him right.

 

“Leave,” Taemin repeated again, “I don’t need you anymore.”

 

“This motel is your haven, then?” Minho asked, confused. “It doesn’t-”

 

Taemin threw him his wallet, “I took out my card and ID. There’s a ton of cash, just use it to get to wherever and to live however.”

 

Minho picked up the wallet that had fallen in his lap, “Why are you paying me? I thought I was a hostage?”

 

“Fine,” He leaned ahead and took the wallet back, “Try getting out of this shithole without a penny in your pocket, then. But just...get out.”

 

Minho was angered by how emotionlessly he said that. It was random but expected, considering how crazy this fucktard was. He was being freed and he should actually be relieved about it. At least he wasn’t going to be leaving on a bad note. But being discarded felt weird. He felt kicked outside. Not free.

 

But still, he got up, grabbing his jacket. He left, slamming the door shut. He stopped for a moment before Taemin’s car. Contemplating if he should puncture his tires or smash the mirror. But he controlled his pettiness. That bastard was still may be sick and needed to get out of here safely. Or perhaps his clan was coming to escort him. Maybe...this getaway had indeed ended.

 

He walked to the gas station and bought a beer with whatever money he had left. He downed it in one go and glared at the spray painted convertible in the parking lot across the street.

 

“Fuck it,” He trashed the can and started walking back again.

 

He passed the car and ran up the stairs, flinging the door open.

 

Taemin turned to him from his phone, locking his screen right away.

 

Minho stared at him a minute before he stormed towards him and brought him to his feet by the collar. He grabbed onto his waist and pulled him closer, kissing him.

 

Taemin kissed him back briefly before biting his lip, forcing Minho to break away. There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes, and Minho could feel the tip of the pistol poking his stomach, “Do that again, Choi...and your life is mine.”

 

Minho didn’t care about the gun aimed at him or about what those fucking words meant. He kissed him again and Taemin let him for a while before he grabbed Minho's hair and pulled his head away, smirking as he looked to Minho, grey eyes hazed. He threw his gun aside and pulled Minho back towards him by his collar, “Remember. You chose this.”

 

Minho just yanked his hand off his hair and cupped his face with one hand, the other getting under his shirt as he kissed him again.

 

* * *

 

 

It was 4 A.M when Minho woke up, his eyes falling on messy blue hair. Taemin was snuggled against him, sleeping on his arm. He could smell the cheap, baby shampoo that the motel had provided emanating from him and it made him chuckle. He hadn’t used it and had used the body soap on his hair instead. The fact that Taemin had actually used it was cute. He normally hated such scents...but it somehow had mixed with Taemin’s scent and it smelt rather comforting.

 

He stayed like that for a while before he slowly got up, putting a pillow under Taemin’s head before he got out of bed, grabbing his boxers. He fished out his phone from his pant pocket and went into the restroom, glancing at Taemin’s back- the slow rise and fall of his body, the dragon wings etched on his back, before he softly closed the door.

 

He unlocked his phone and navigated to the contacts. He stopped at Jinki’s contact information and sighed, staring at it.

 

_“Let’s see who protects who now.” Jinki smiled._

 

_“What do you mean?”_

 

_“The Dragon Prince has made our town his lair.”_

 

_“So what?” Minho shrugged._

 

_“The Dragons have connections in many places. I might be able to arrest them at first but then they will get out of it. They will keep getting out of it. Criminal records are like awards for them. I’m sure they go around in parties saying, hey look, I got arrested these many times and I’m still walking free. Fucktards. They take pride in being criminals...and it’s so unfortunate that it angers me…that they evade the law by throwing money and power around-”_

 

_“What the fuck is your point, Detective?”_

 

_“I need to make an arrest that the whole nation sees and supports. There are places their corruption can’t reach...and if the Dragon Prince is caught in a foolproof way, not even corrupted officials can do a damn thing about it.”_

 

_“And...why are ranting your plans to me?”_

 

_“I need you. To make my plan work.”_

 

_“I’m fucking not being part of any police work.”_

 

_“I haven’t put you in jail for years. Years, Minho. Even after you beat up people and destructed properties. Even after you robbed those millionaires. The only reason I let you walk free is that the justice your delinquency provides, this town, the police cannot provide. But I know you don’t give a damn about this town or the residents...you just like the thrill of the wrong side and being the protector or whatever crap you think you are doing is the safest way for you to fulfill your thrill. You hate being jailed. I know it. I saw enough of it when you were in juvenile prison.”_

 

_“So…” Minho trailed, “...basically you are calling in your favors.”_

 

_“Thank you.” Jinki glared at him, “For saving my breath.”_

 

_“I will only do it if it doesn’t harm me in any way.” Minho sighed, “No prison. I will continue to be a free man after this. Swear it.”_

 

_“I swear it. I will keep you out of prison. As long as you do your part.”_

 

_“I’m listening.”_

 

_“The police doesn’t have a visual on this guy yet.” Jinki began “The Dragon Prince only comes out to meetings. Never comes out to watch over his work. I need you to get a meeting. We need a visual and since it’s only a meeting, we probably will get nothing out of an arrest. We’ll advertise his face and stage a chase. You need to be on the move with him. I will send you a phone. It will have a tracker on it that will work even if he smashes it. Just keep the smashed phone on you somehow. When he runs, he will run to the place that’s most important to him. A place that will be proof of his crimes. He might take his own precautions by going the roundabout way...but he will definitely go there. You need to last for the entirety. When we capture him, we’ll take you out at as a witness. If you don’t wanna be called an informant we’ll just say he held you hostage. Whatever you please. And to make things less suspicious, I’ll reveal your picture to the public too. Don’t be fazed by it. If things go well...I’ll clear your name, like I promised.”_

 

_“I fucking have to destroy my gang  for this.” He growled, “We don’t mess with the mafia. And if I say I’m gonna mess with them, all of them will walk out. And after you solve this mess...you are saying I can be redeemed? Bullshit.. I fucking can’t live in this town again.” He stepped ahead, his eyes grave, “Remember...that I’m risking everything to be your human tracker, Detective. You better fucking make my reward worth it. A clean chit. A new identity. Some cash to start somewhere else. That’s my price.”_

 

_“You have it.”_

 

“Fuck it,” Minho whispered to himself, pulling apart his battery and sim from the phone before dumping all of it in the commode, flushing it repeatedly until everything was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

“What’s his location today, Jonghyun?” Jinki asked, entering his office that morning, greeting the others on his team.

 

Jonghyun projected his laptop on the bigger screen, “Take a look yourself.”

 

“Is that…?”

 

Jonghyun sighed, turning the map from a graphical to a visual one. “Sewers. Choi Minho’s tracker is in the fucking sewers.” He played the last path of the tracker, “Flushed down a toilet.”

 

Jinki stared at the screen, before turning away in anger. “Bastard!” He shouted, pacing around a while before he finally turned to Jonghyun, “I want all his previous locations mapped out…” He turned to the others on his team, “...and all the men that we can gather...looking for them in every direction from his last legit location. Get on it. Right now!”

 

“Yes, Sir!”

 

* * *

 

 

Later that day, they had stopped for fuel and food in the afternoon. Minho had left the nozzle in and was coming back with sandwiches when he saw Taemin laughing hard, looking at something on his phone screen.

 

“What’s funny?” Minho couldn’t help but ask, leaning down to the car window, making Taemin turn to him. Taemin just smirked, grabbing his collar and pecking his lips.

 

Minho smirked, “What was that for?”

 

Taemin pressed play and series of weird snores filled the air, “Maybe I find you cute?”

 

Minho tried to snatch the phone away but Taemin shifted his hand away, chuckling, “It’s filled up, get on in, Choi.”

 

Minho grumbled and returned the nozzle before climbing back into his seat.

 

“Just fucking wait until the night,” Minho smirked, “I’m gonna get your pretty snores on tape too.”

 

Taemin rested his chin on his propped hand, smiling in amusement, “Hmm, good luck doing that without a phone.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Don’t you think you’re getting too affectionate too soon?” Taemin said when Minho had joined him in bed and had wrapped his arms around him, snuggling into his neck. He elbowed him before turning towards him, “You’ve just slept with me once, Choi. Are you the type to get attached to someone you’ve slept with?”

 

Minho grew thoughtful.

 

His mind flashed back to every time he’d seen Taemin smirk and give him a taunting look. To every time he had bit his lip. To that messed up bed hair. To his husky voice. To his sweet arrogance. To his cuteness. To his grey eyes, hazed with desire. To those majestic dragon wings on his back. To the blue rose tattooed on his ankle. To his warmth. To his unrestrained, ridiculous laughter. And to his amused face, waiting for an answer.

 

“Maybe.”

 

He chuckled, “You are the worst type.”

 

“Too bad,” Minho shrugged, “I’m yours.”

 

Taemin turned away, “Too sappy, My ears are rotting.”

 

Minho laughed, wrapping his arms around him again, “Too fucking late. No returns.”

 

“I know.” Minho heard him whisper, and from his voice...and that little curve in his cheek...he could tell...Taemin was smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

They had taken a short break midday for fuel, but after filling up, they were parked on the back, making out in the backseat.

 

Minho broke away, caressing Taemin’s cheek, “Shouldn’t we getting on the highway-”

 

“Hmm,” Taemin shushed Minho, smiling playfully as he kissed his neck and palmed his crotch, “Could you drive with that?”

 

Minho let him climb over him and pin him to the seat, “I could have...but now? No chance.”

 

Taemin chuckled, kissing him.

 

Sirens filled the air and they broke away, peeking at the road. Taemin turned back to Minho, pecking his lips, “Care to continue this elsewhere?”

 

Minho smirked, “With pleasure.”

 

* * *

 

 

They snuck out of the gas station and had merged onto the highway but the police cars had probably lost their trail. A few minutes more and one car finally appeared in the rearview mirror, “We have company,” Minho announced, speeding up.

 

Taemin peeked out of the window before turning back ahead, his smile arrogant, “About time.” He leaned ahead and entered an address into the navigation. Minho didn’t get to have a look at it and he followed the directions blindly, speeding up to 100. He took the ramp and in his speed, he slid off the ramp onto the grass. Minho accelerated, getting out and merging onto the street right away, looking to Taemin, worried.

 

The guy had one eye closed and was holding on, but was clearly enjoying the dangerous chase because he had straightened up right away, and peeked out the window, laughing when he found the cops fall behind again.

 

“Fuck, how could you enjoy that, Taemin...I thought I almost died.” Minho whispered but Taemin chuckled, “Just be grateful I’m not asking you to do it again.”

 

“Again?!” Minho exclaimed before laughing, “You really are fucking crazy.”

 

“You still fucking love me!”

 

That was the first time he heard him curse...and damn, he sounded sexy.

 

They soon had arrived at the address Taemin had put in the navigation. The airport.

 

Taemin jumped out of the car and Minho got out as well, his eyes catching the police cars on the ramp below, turning towards the departure lane- where they were.

 

“Shit, they’re here.” Minho grabbed Taemin’s wrist, dragging him through the doors. They stood before the terminals and Minho swallowed, looking here and there, “What’s the plan now?”

 

Taemin led him towards the staircase that went to the terminals above and pinned him against it, leaning to kiss him.

 

“Taemin-”

 

But Taemin grabbed onto his shoulders and kissed him, long and passionate before withdrawing. Minho straightened up but heard a clang and felt a sharp pain around his wrist. He looked down and found his hand cuffed to the railing of the staircase. “...the fuck? Tae-”

 

But Taemin was gone and all he could see was Jinki approaching, the other cops spreading out.

 

* * *

 

 

“You should be thankful,” Jinki glared at Minho who was sitting handcuffed in his cabin, “That I didn’t put you in jail and made you a protected witness despite that little sewer stunt you pulled.” He sighed, “Where is it? I want the tracker back.”

 

“It’s still in the fucking sewers.” Minho deadpanned, “I flushed it down.”

 

Jinki fisted his palm, leaning back in his chair, “Listen, Minho...it’s been three days. You need to start talking-”

 

A knock on the door interrupted Jinki and he got up, opening the door. A detective handed him the file, “It’s the autopsy of the Dragon Prince’s phone we found on Choi Minho.” Jinki took it and went back to his chair, going through its contents. He looked to Minho midway, a little tensed before he buzzed in the same detective, “Take Minho back to my apartment. Keep your guard on. Gather the rest after that.”

 

Minho sighed as he got up, waiting for the detective to come and take him away.

 

“Did you grab it from him?” Jinki asked Minho when he was at the door, “The phone?”

 

“He dropped it in my pocket, God knows when,” Minho sighed, “And I fucking don’t know why.”

 

* * *

 

 

Three more days passed by. Minho was under house arrest in Jinki’s apartment. He watched the news all day, knowing that Jinki was going at full speed with the investigation. The phone Taemin had left on him seemed to have been an important piece of evidence...and the way Jinki had not summoned him again, Minho suspected that he had found everything he needed on that phone.

 

On the fourth day when he turned on the news, Minho stopped short on seeing the news flash the capture of the Dragon Prince.

 

“What the-” Jinki’s home phone rang and Minho picked it up, knowing it was Jinki calling.

 

“I’ve informed the officers at the door. They are waiting. Get ready to come in.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jonghyun closed the door after Minho walked into Jinki’s office and Jinki got up, flipping his whiteboard to reveal the investigation map of the Dragon case. He pointed to the picture of a man, blue-haired, slightly stout, a big nose and furious, dark eyes, “That’s the Dragon Prince.”

 

Minho raised his brows, “Fucking not. What the hell are you playing at?”

 

“It’s the Dragon Prince. The real one. Kang Jihoon.” Jonghyun said, “Do you know where we found him?”

 

Minho looked to both of them, shrugging slowly, his brows tensing.

 

“Tied and locked up in his own bathroom.” Jinki answered, “The guy was sitting in the bathtub- food and water hanging from the ceiling for him to consume. He was passed out due to dehydration when we found him. When he woke up in the hospital he made a fucking scene because his hair was blue.” Jinki folded his arms, “Blue.”

 

Minho blinked in confusion, “Are you sure this goon is the real one…?”

 

“100%.”

 

“Then-”

 

“Who was the guy we chased around?” Jinki completed his question, “I have no idea,” He slid the phone bearing the dragon sticker towards Minho, “But he left us a gold mine in that phone. All corrupted connections of the Dragon Mafia. Info on their drug dealings, black money, and illegal businesses. And...this…” Jinki pushed some pictures towards him, “This is gonna be in the media soon. The Dragon mafia’s drug hubs- where they hide their stock and run the distribution from- were actually five motels in the outskirts of five consecutive cities. We got there and found the entire stash...destroyed. Dissolved in some chemical that rendered it worthless. Apparently, the reaction had been going on for at least a week according to our forensics specialists...and it remained unnoticed because the whole ‘Dragon Prince being chased’ had halted all operations in the Dragon Mafia.”

 

Minho just stared at the phone, confounded.

 

“The guy…” Jinki took the phone and opened something, “...knew from the start that you had a tracker on you.” Minho looked to Jinki, horrified. “Hacked into it and played quite a bit with it. We observed the tracks...and he always kept the signals we received delayed by 6 hours. Your tracker, that was in the sewers, suddenly pinged at a gas station a whole city away. That was why I kept hammering you about the tracker.”

 

“That means...he…”

 

“It was all his plan.” Jinki said, “He fucking played us all.”

 

“The funniest and the smartest part is how he created the whole blue-haired image.” Jonghyun couldn’t help but smile, “Because it's hard for people to remember anything else when you pass by them with such an odd hair color. He even dyed Kang Jihoon’s hair that color to make it seem like it was the Dragon Prince’s trait. Now that his arrest is flashing all over the news, people can’t really tell the difference between him and the other guy. The picture we had from the club wasn’t very clear anyway. They all think it was Kang Jihoon who was being chased all this while…all because of the blue hair.”

 

“We are searching the motels for any evidence on this mysterious guy. But it’s probably a dead end. Those places get many guests every day, it’s impossible to segregate his DNA from the others.” Jinki sighed, “The car was gone too.” He turned back to his board, “So that means he wasn’t alone. Of course...he wasn’t. It’s not a one-man job to infiltrate a mafia lair and _pretend_ to be said mafia’s leader. Just imagine how many men he’d have to kill or bribe...” He turned back to Minho, “Anyway, the reason I called you out was...what do you know about this man? Our Mr. X for now. Any name...any special traits?”

 

Minho stared at the dark picture of Taemin and him that had been snapped in the club, with a huge Mr. X scrawled next to it in Jinki’s handwriting, “I never knew his name...and like your partner said…” Minho sighed, “I couldn’t pay attention to anything except for his blue hair.”

 

Jinki pursed his lips. Minho knew he didn’t believe him from the way he was eying him. He finally blinked, “Okay, let’s try this again tomorrow. You might have a lot to process today.”

 

Minho just sighed.

 

* * *

 

 

Minho glanced into the side-view mirror, finding black sedans trailing the police car he was being transported back to Jinki’s apartment in. Jonghyun seemed to have noticed too and he took a sharp turn, looking into the rearview mirror, face tensed. He pressed on the Bluetooth in his ear, “Unit 747 dispatch. Target are four black sedans in pursuit of police car 9863. I repeat. Unit 747 dispatch.” The phone rang a minute after that and Jonghyun pressed on his Bluetooth again, “Yes, Jinki. I called for backup. They’ve been following us for about a mile. Yes. Got it.”

 

Jonghyun sighed as he sped up, looking to Minho, “Dragon Mafia. Golden dragon tags hanging off their rearview mirrors. Seems like they want you too.”

 

“Shit,” Minho breathed.

 

Jonghyun smiled, “Don’t worry-” But three more sedans came out of nowhere, blocking Jonghyun’s path and he hit the brakes, sending the car colliding into the wall.

 

The last Minho saw was Jonghyun unconscious at the wheel and a hefty man reaching for his collar, his gold teeth glistening in the sun as he grinned.

 

* * *

 

 

_Minho pinned Taemin to the door the moment they were inside the motel room._

 

_“Good luck doing that without a phone,” Minho whispered, his lips barely inches away from Taemin’s. “I never told you...that I don’t have a phone.”_

 

_Taemin smiled in amusement._

 

_“I’m not that much of an idiot, you see.”_

 

_“I wouldn’t have dropped that hint if I thought you wouldn’t catch on.”_

 

_“Wanna enlighten me? About what the fuck is actually going on?”_

 

_Taemin kissed him, wrapping his arms around his neck, breaking away after a short moment, smiling, “Just play along, sweetheart.”_

 

Minho felt his body aching. Felt himself tied up to a chair. The cloth around his eyes was beginning to itch his nose and more than the pain, he was irritated by that little itch his tied hands couldn’t take care of.

 

“Finally,” He heard a man growl and something rest on his shoulder. Something that he suspected was a knife. “Where’s that bastard who was cruising with you, pretending to be my son?”

 

Minho just smiled brashly, “In hell.”

 

His collar was grabbed but Minho didn’t flinch but instead scrunched up his nose. The guy reeked of some weird kind of oil. “I only have patience when it comes to my son. Don’t take advantage of that. I’m gonna ask you just one more time. If you value your fingers...then answer. Where is that-”

 

A series of gunshots filled the air along with chaos. Minho felt his collar be let go of. He listened closely, brows tensing as the firing continued. When it was silent, he looked up, to the sound of echoing footsteps.

 

He felt a pressure on his lap- like someone had come sit on him- and a hand yanking at his hair, pulling his head up before a gun came resting on the side of his neck, the warmth of it stinging him lightly.

 

“Give me one reason not to kill you,” A husky whisper came and Minho smirked, recognizing it.

 

“I fucking hate you.”

 

Taemin snickered, untying his blindfold before he removed the gun from Minho’s neck. “I fucking hate you too, Choi.” He whispered, kissing Minho’s arrogant smile.

 

* * *

 

 

“I finally found it.” Jonghyun began, pointing to the picture of a blue rose. They had found a blue rose left on a chair that was standing in between the bodies of the massacred Dragon Mafia. “It’s a symbol of a mafia. Or at least, I’m assuming they are a mafia. No one knows what they call themselves...or what businesses they run. They don’t even publicly involve in any dealing and all of it is done digitally...without leaving a trace...an example is the dealing between them and the Dragon Mafia. We know they exist because of the gateways the Dragon Mafia used...but after that, it's all scrambled up. No trace.” He paused, “A blue rose was found once before too. About three years ago, in Japan. In the house of an industrialist who was murdered.” He turned to pin a picture of the industrialist on the board. “All the companies Kazuhiro owned closed overnight because the tax officers came raiding after receiving a disc with detailed info on the black market he was running. Apparently, he was neck deep in debt...because he had humongous amounts of money with no sources listed. But what I suspect is that he got that money from the Blue Rose. And the Dragon King’s accounts show similar patterns of-”

 

“Fraud.” Jinki completed.

 

“Yes,” Jonghyun nodded, “The Dragon Mafia is where it is...because they deceived the Blue Rose.”

 

“Anything on Choi Minho?”

 

“We have been watching all the places he could frequent, for a month. Searched his apartment many times.” Jonghyun stuck Minho’s picture on the board as well, “Nothing. There’s no trace.”

 

Jinki walked to his side, sighing as he put his hands in his pockets, staring at the picture of the blue rose. “That bastard...he’s a part of them now. I’m sure.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Just curious,” Taemin tilted his head, crossing his feet on the dashboard, his ankle pants riding up to reveal the blue rose etched on the side. “Why was the cop ready to offer you witness protection?”

 

Minho smiled, “I am a fucking awesome actor, that’s why. I gained his sympathy by acting miserable and troubled. He let me out of juvie early and never put me in prison...thinking he “understood” me...and hoping I’ll come around...you know all that bullshit. He fucking let me live in his house. I even got a look at the new ID and relocation assistance he got me. He was gonna make me work in fucking traffic police in some rural town.” He chuckled, “He’s your typical soft-hearted good cop.”

 

“I see…” Taemin just smiled. His phone rang a moment later and he set it on speaker.

 

 _“Taemin,”_ The guy greeted, _“I’ve got our new assignment. Are you sure your new recruit is cut out for it?”_

 

“We wouldn’t have been able to find the Dragon King if it wasn’t for him, Kibum.”

 

_“I was just making sure because...well he used to run a lame street gang called ‘The Hood’.”_

 

“You are on the speaker by the way.”

 

The line was silent for a while before Kibum broke the silence, _“Welcome to hell, Choi Minho.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Taemin walked into a dimmed cabin, the door opening to his footsteps. His hair was now trimmed and a messy brown, his grey eyes following the clean-cut decoration as he stepped towards the desk.

 

A man had his back to him, looking out the reflective glass, wearing only a vest on his pants. There was a blue rose tattooed on the back of his left shoulder, the same kind that was tattooed on Taemin’s ankle.

 

The man grabbed his shirt and put it on, swiftly adding the suit and tie as well before turning to Taemin. “Have the dragon symbols faded?”

 

Taemin hummed, “Yes. I’m not getting anything on my back again, even if it’s temporary. It hurts.” He dropped down into one of the chairs, smirking, “A typical soft-hearted good cop. That’s what he called you, Hyung.”

 

Jinki chuckled, “Perfect.” He took his chair, “I’d had him killed already if he hadn’t caught my little brother’s eye.”

 

“You know the deal.” Taemin shrugged, “We both stay out of each other’s territories until absolutely necessary.”

 

“Hmm, like it or not, Lee Taemin,” Jinki said, turning his chair to glance at the city view, his eyes gaining a devilish glint, his smile still as charming even when devious, “But I’m still your boss.” He turned back, “And never forget who we are. We are-”

 

Taemin smiled, repeating along with Jinki, “The blue rose that needs no thorns.”

 

_-End-_


End file.
